Triumphant Grace
by TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel
Summary: Zachariah makes the mistake of going after the Winchesters again, Michael and Gabriel track down Raphael and have a chat, and Team Free Will settle into their changed dynamics. Sequel to Hidden Grace.
1. Part One

**Author:** TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel

**Title: **Triumphant Grace

**Summary:** Zachariah makes the mistake of going after the Winchesters again, Michael and Gabriel track down Uriel and have a chat, and Team Free Will settle into their changed dynamics. Sequel to _Hidden Grace._

**Spoilers/warnings:** Uh… season five? In general? You know who Gabriel is, you're good to go. If not, DON"T READ THIS. Instead, go watch the episode 'Changing Channels' like, _right now_.

Slash warning for mild but definite Michael/Castiel, and slight Sam/Gabriel.

**Author notes:**

_Please let me know if you spot any typos. Reviews are awesome. Thank you!_

_Also, I have edited this chapter, because ffnet kept deleting Becky's stream of conciousness; there are now word breaks, lol._

_

* * *

_

**TRIUMPHANT GRACE**

**Part One**

* * *

Zachariah was gloating as he looked down at the two men in front of him with a satisfied smile.

"Come now boys," he said. "You can't resist forever. It's destiny, Dean, surely you can understand that."

"Fuck you, Zachariah."

"You're going to say yes, Dean, one way or another."

Dean's eyes glared up at him.

"Zachariah. Listen to yourself. You're trying to torture a couple of humans into doing what you want them to do. You're trying to override free will so that you can, oh yeah, ignore what's supposed to happen and bring the Apocalypse a few millennia early. You think Father would be pleased?"

Zachariah smiled at him. It wasn't a nice smile.

"Father's not here right now, so what's it matter? I'm growing impatient here, Dean."

Dean's face tilted up to look at Zachariah with an unexpectedly savage grin.

"You want Dean Winchester to say yes so it all goes your way, right Zach? See, there's one problem with that."

Michael stood, allowing his cramped wings to burst free and his Grace to surge forward, humming with the same vengeful satisfaction as his smile.

"_I'm not Dean Winchester_."

The smile vanished, and Michael stared sternly into Zachariah's stunned gaze, all wrath and justice. There was a slight displacement of air as Gabriel appeared next to him, silent and smirking with the Trickster's dark sense of retribution.

Zachariah glanced between them.

"No," he said, his expression turning to one of fear.

"Oh yes," Gabriel said. "You shouldn't have been such a bully, Zachy-boy."

"You have trespassed against humanity and against the will of the Lord," Michael said.

"Yeah," Gabriel agreed. "You've been throwing your weight around, I hear. Who do you think you are? _Us?_"

"You'll be punished accordingly," Michael continued, ignoring Gabriel's interjection.

"_Hasta la vista_, baby," Gabriel said, and snapped his fingers.

There was an explosion of Grace and human flesh.

"Oh, _gross_," said Sam.

Bits of Zachariah's Vessel had gone everywhere.

Michael frowned at Gabriel.

"The Vessel too? Did you have to?" he complained.

"Nope," Gabriel explained cheerfully. "But I like the way they go _splat_. Besides, it was a mercy. Guy deserved to go straight to Heaven, after putting up with Zachariah for so long."

"Guys," Sam said, still covered in human remains, "if you don't clean me off, like, _right now_…"

"It's like I'm your maid," Gabriel grumbled, but snapped Sam clean. "'Gabriel, clean up those candy wrappers.' 'Gabriel, can you vanish this weird goo that _thing_ squirted me with?' 'Gabriel, get this frigging chocolate out of my damn keyboard.'"

"Those were all _your fault_," Sam glared.

"Whatever. _'Thank you for helping me out, Gabriel.'_"

"Yeah, thanks Gabe," Michael said.

"Any time, Mikey."

Sam was grumbling under his breath.

"Sam, quit whining."

"Jerk."

"Bitch," Michael responded.

"Morons," Gabriel finished. "Hey, how do you guys feel about pizza?"

Sam promptly turned green.

Michael snickered under his breath.

"I hate you both like, _so much_ right now," Sam said sulkily.

* * *

Three angels and a human sat in a diner eating pie.

"I thought that went well," Gabriel said.

"Sure, until you exploded Zachariah," Sam grumbled.

"You exploded Zachariah?" Castiel asked.

"He was a dick," Gabriel said. "So, Raphael next?"

"Probably," said Michael.

"You know, even if you get the angels to follow you, you've still got Lucifer running around," Sam commented.

"I know," Michael replied. "I have a plan. Man, this is good pie."

"A plan?" Sam repeated skeptically.

"Dude." Michael raised his eyebrows. "Commander of the Host, remember? I'm a freaking _general_. Of course I've got a plan."

"Does this plan involve you stabbing things with that sword of yours somewhere?" Gabriel asked.

"Possibly."

"Gee, how'd I guess?" Gabriel mocked.

"I am sure your plan is excellent, Michael," Castiel informed Michael warmly.

"Thanks, Cas."

"Of course you do," Gabriel grumbled. "Try batting your eyelashes, it'd be more subtle. Maybe Michael'll tell you how much he likes your eyes."

"Shut _up_, Gabriel," Michael growled, while Sam snorted and said, "Dude, I don't want to know."

Castiel frowned between Gabriel and Michael, one smirking, the other scowling.

"I don't –"

"Just ignore him Cas," Michael ordered.

"Very well."

'_Whipped,'_ Gabriel mouthed exaggeratedly to Sam. Sam grinned and nodded.

"Fuck you both very much," Michael said, genuinely irritated. "You know what? You two can talk about Raphael or ancient Mesopotamia or whatever the hell you want. I'm going to see if the prophet knows anything."

And he left the diner.

He did snag the last piece of pie as he went, though.

* * *

Michael knocked on the door and waited.

A moment later Chuck opened the door, a beer in one hand, looking marginally less unshaven and scruffy than he had the last time Michael had seen him, back when he was still Dean.

"Oh my God," Chuck said, dropping the beer.

"Not even close," Michael responded.

"Holy shit. You're _Michael_." Chuck looked freaked.

"Yeah. Listen, I wanted to talk to you about the whole prophet thing. Oh, and to tell you Zachariah isn't going to be a problem any more."

"I know," said Chuck. "I saw him explode. I hate it when people explode. I threw up across my couch."

Michael tried not to grin, he really did.

"Weak stomach, huh?"

"You know, for an archangel, you're kind of a jerk," Chuck said.

"You think I'm bad, you should meet Gabriel. Can I come in?"

"Yeah, I guess," Chuck allowed, and stood aside to let Michael walk in.

The house was a lot cleaner and tidier than it had been last time Michael had been here. Also, there were now flowery cushions on the couch, and a pink coat hanging off a door handle.

"Chuck, honey, have you seen my laptop?" a familiar voice called, making Michael's eyes widen. He shot Chuck an incredulous look. The prophet had the grace to look sheepish, but sported a small grin all the same.

"I had it this morning, but – OH MY GOD!"

Michael winced as Becky caught sight of him.

"_Oh my God!_" Becky cried out again, breaking into a huge smile. "Dean! Except that it turns out you were really Michael all along, so I probably shouldn't call you Dean anymore. That was _such_ an inspired plot twist. I can't believe you're an archangel!"

Becky tackled him around the middle and hugged enthusiastically.

Michael patted her on the back gingerly, and glared at Chuck, who was trying to hide his smirk.

"Uh, hi, Becky."

"It's such an honour to meet you," Becky prattled happily, her grip not loosening in the slightest. "I mean, now you're an archangel and everything. Oh. My. God. That means you have _wings_ now. Can I see them?"

Michael blinked.

"I have no idea," he said honestly, looking down at the top of Becky's head.

As a human, she'd creeped the hell out of him, but looking at her now, her soul was bright and innocent and harmless. Michael had to admit she was kind of cute.

"Let me try something," he said, willing to accommodate her. "Take a step back for a second."

Becky instantly let him go, and Michael focused on the flow of Grace down each wing.

He reached out to the dimensions around him, and twisted them where his wings were.

Becky let out an ear-piercing shriek.

"_Ow fuck!_" Michael spat, trying to fold all six of his wings into smaller shapes so that they weren't scrunched against the walls and ceiling.

"Oh my God!" Becky squealed yet again. "They're _gorgeous!_"

She reached out a dazzled hand to grasp some of Michael's feathers.

Michael couldn't help smiling indulgently at the delight and joy radiating from her.

"Careful," he cautioned. "Don't yank on them, or anything."

Becky stroked one bronze-orange wing, looking awed.

"Wow," Chuck said, staring. "Those wings are enormous. I'm surprised they fit."

"They don't," Michael said, watching in bemusement as Becky folded out the end of one wing, and pressed her face against it. He obligingly fanned the feathers out a bit more. "I'm making the room bigger than it is."

"You can do that?"

"I'm an archangel. I can do all kinds of impressive shit."

Michael tilted his head at the rapid stream of _oh they're so huge and pretty and powerful I love them they're so soft __I wish I had wings or Chuck had wings I wonder if Michael could take me flying I wonder what the other angels wings are like _running through Becky's head.

"Well, Cas's are kind of gunmetal grey," Michael told her, "and Gabriel's are gold."

"You're reading my mind?" Becky exclaimed, turning wide eyes on him.

_That is __so__ hot._

Michael blinked uncomfortably, and looked back at Chuck.

"So, uh, I was wondering if you can tell me anything helpful, like what Raphael or Lucifer's been up to."

Chuck grimaced.

"Lucifer's, um, you know, wreaking havoc. Raphael's just trying to stop things getting really bad. Like, uh, you were supposed to."

Michael opened his mouth to snap, but stopped, and sighed instead.

"Okay, I deserved that. Any idea where I can find him?"

Chuck shook his head.

"No clue."

"Great. Guess I'll do things the hard way." Michael looked at Becky. "Becky, I need you to let go now."

"No," Becky returned, clutching several feathers possessively.

Chuck shrugged helplessly.

_What can I do? She's my girlfriend, it's not like she does what I say or anything. Please, please don't smite her._

Michael rolled his eyes.

"Dude. I'm not smiting anyone. Becky, sweetheart, if you don't let go of my wings I'm never letting you touch them again."

"You'll let me touch them again?" Becky's face lit up.

"Sure, but only if you respect my personal boundaries."

Becky moved back reluctantly. Michael twisted reality again, letting his wings slip back into solely being an ethereal manifestation of his Grace.

"Are you going?" Becky asked. "Because, I just wanted to tell you, I love the romantic sub-plot in the latest book. I think you and Castiel are like, _so_ sweet."

Chuck looked at Michael's face.

"Uh, let's leave Michael alone so he can do his vanishing thing," the prophet suggested nervously, trying to drag Becky out of the room.

"But –"

"_Now_," Chuck hissed. Becky blinked at him in surprise, but gave a pleased smile at his forcefulness.

Michael shook his head.

* * *

"Hey bro," Gabriel called out, as Michael popped in without warning. He and Cas and Sam were playing Scrabble. "Get over your snit?"

Michael flexed his wings in an 'I am strong and can totally kick your ass' kind of way.

"I was visiting Chuck. Sam, did you know he's with Becky?"

"Um, yeah," Sam said, peering far too intently at his letters.

"And you didn't tell me? Nice."

"Who's Becky?" Gabriel asked curiously.

"A deranged fan," Sam answered.

"A _grabby_ fan," Michael added. "Don't ever let her near your wings."

"You manifested your wings?" Castiel stared at him with some intensity.

"Yeah. She's like a box of kittens. It was cute."

"That's not what you said last time," Sam observed, staring as well.

"Yeah, well," Michael shrugged his shoulders, cuffing Gabriel playfully with one wing as he went past, "that was before I could see her soul."

He ducked the letter tiles that Gabriel pegged at his head.

"So," Michael said, "while I'm not suggesting we don't rough Raphael up a bit, I'm maybe rethinking the 'beat the shit out of him' plan."

"Do tell." Gabriel looked at him accusingly.

"Well, uh, the prophet kind of had the balls to point out that what Raphael's doing is partly my fault," Michael admitted. "In a non-confrontational, passive-aggressive sort of way."

"Is that _guilt_ I hear?" Gabriel sniped. "Great. _Now_ you're feeling guilty."

"Don't get me wrong," Michael argued, "I'm not saying we forgive him straight away or anything –"

"I know, I know, he played Exploding Snap with Cas and your soul cries out for vengeance," Gabriel nodded along.

" – but let's face it, out of the three of us, he was the only one who actually had the guts to stay and try and keep everything from going to hell. I'm just saying, we're not exactly in a position to judge, here."

"Speak for yourself," Gabriel disagreed. "I'm _faaaaabulous_ at judging."

"Guys," Sam interrupted, "why don't you ask what Cas thinks?"

The two archangels stopped bickering and turned to look at the seraph.

"I think," Castiel said slowly, "that if Raphael was trying to do what he believed was right, he should not be punished for it."

Gabriel threw up his hands with a look of disgust.

"Oh, come _on_. He's been killing angels left and right, including you, and you think we should just let him _walk_?"

"You know, for someone who left because all his brothers were fighting each other, you're strangely eager to see Raphael whumped," Michael said dryly.

Gabriel was silent for a moment.

Then his shoulders slumped.

"I don't mean it." His voice sounded suddenly lost, and small. Michael was reminded strongly of the way he'd stood in the warehouse, inside the ring of holy fire, uncertain and with all his bluster and bravado gone.

In response Michael clapped a hand to the back of Gabriel's neck and wrapped all of his wings around his brother comfortingly.

"Yeah, I get it."

"Geez Michael, you don't need to cuddle me like some fledgling," Gabriel muttered; but he relaxed back into the curve of Michael's wings, and threaded his fingers gently through the feathers.

Sam frowned at the gesture, trying to work out what Gabriel was doing.

"I've got my wings folded around him," Michael explained.

"Oh." Sam tried not to look wistful.

Michael rolled his eyes.

"You are such a girl, Sammy," he said half under his breath, and manifested his wings like he had earlier.

"_Michael!_" Gabriel hollered in irritation, from somewhere inside the mass of bronze-orange. "Get your freaking feathers out of my face!"

Michael sheepishly pulled his wings back, to reveal Gabriel sitting there looking ruffled.

Sam just stared up at Michael's wings, his mouth open.

Michael grinned at the longing thoughts that were strong enough for all the angels in the room to hear without even trying.

"Go ahead and touch, Sam." He spread the nearest wing invitingly.

Sam reached out hesitantly to brush a hand along the feathers.

"Relax," Michael said. "They're not as delicate as they look."

He and Gabriel watched in amusement as Sam ran his hands all over Michael's wings with a look of wide-eyed wonder.

Smiling, Michael glanced in Cas's direction, and frowned.

Castiel was watching Sam as well, but with an entirely different expression.

Michael raised an eyebrow, and thought about it for a second, before skimming a wing across the top of Castiel's head to make his hair stand up.

Cas caught hold of Michael's wing and glared at him. Michael just grinned back.

Castiel stared at the wing for a moment, as though not quite sure what to do with it, before running his fingers through the feathers the way Gabriel had earlier.

Gabriel smirked at them both, but Michael pretended not to notice.


	2. Part Two

**Author:** TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel

**Title: **Triumphant Grace

**Summary:** Zachariah makes the mistake of going after the Winchesters again, Michael and Gabriel track down Uriel and have a chat, and Team Free Will settle into their changed dynamics. Sequel to _Hidden Grace._

**Spoilers/warnings:** Uh… season five? In general? You know who Gabriel is, you're good to go. If not, DON"T READ THIS. Instead, go watch the episode 'Changing Channels' like, _right now_.

Slash warning for mild but definite Dean/Castiel, and slight Sam/Gabriel.

**Author notes:**

_Two possible scenarios: scenario one, Gabriel was the second-youngest archangel, trying to hold it all together until he gave it up in disgust, while Raphael stayed to try and fix the family he grew up with; scenario two, Gabriel is the youngest, irresponsible, who plays up and makes life difficult for everyone else when he's unhappy, while Raphael is the middle-child who quietly + stoically soldiers on as the older and the younger brothers focus on their own dramas. I'm leaning towards number two: what do you think?_

_Please let me know if you spot any typos. Reviews are awesome. Thank you!_

_

* * *

_

**TRIUMPHANT GRACE**

**Part Two**

* * *

"You know Sam, you could see my wings, if you want to."

Michael choked on his coffee.

"Really?" Sam asked in interest.

Michael met Castiel's eyes to see them brimming with amusement.

"Sure. Why not?"

Michael shook his head at Gabriel's idea of subtle, and wondered if Sam had the slightest idea of what was going on. Probably not.

Actually, it was probably a good thing Gabriel didn't do subtle, because Sam was oblivious.

"If you're going to be manifesting your wings, make sure you give them enough space," Michael cautioned.

"Well, _duh_." Gabriel moved to the middle of the motel room and manifested his three pairs of wings.

"Oh, wow, those are amazing, Gabriel. Can I touch them?"

Michael snorted, and tried not to look at Cas, who had a slight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Screw you, Michael," Gabriel said petulantly. "Touch away, Sam."

Michael flapped himself out of there before he lost it.

Castiel followed him out, and watched with smiling eyes as Michael collapsed against the side of the Impala, allowing his mirth to escape.

"Man, this is hilarious," Michael chuckled. "Still, if Gabriel hurts him…"

"I believe that Gabriel's intentions are sincere," Castiel offered.

"Yeah, I know. Oh God, this means I'm going to have to give _both_ of them the 'threatening older brother' speech."

" 'The threatening older brother speech?'" Cas questioned.

"It's when someone's dating your brother or sister, and you take them aside and explain all the horrible things you'll do to them if they hurt your sibling," Michael explained.

"I see," Castiel said thoughtfully.

"We should probably get back," Michael suggested. "But I had to leave or bust out laughing, and that didn't seem like it'd be real helpful right now."

"I agree."

When they returned to the motel room, Gabriel was standing with all six wings spread around him in proud display, golden and gleaming.

He'd clearly preened them very recently, and Michael felt the laughter creeping up again.

"Sam, stop groping Gabriel's wings," he ordered. "Gabriel. You happy to go after Raphael?"

"As a clam," Gabriel assured him.

Michael turned back to Castiel.

"You good to stay here with Sam?" he asked. "No offence, but you won't exactly be much help against an archangel, and I don't really want to leave Sam here alone."

"I am not offended," Cas told him. "Your argument is sound. I am happy to remain here with Sam."

"Awesome."

Michael turned back to Sam and Gabriel, and could barely keep a straight face.

Gabriel's wings were gone from the physical plane again and he looked ready to leave, but Sam was standing there totally unaware he had a small fluffy feather from the underside of Gabriel's wing caught in his hair.

"We good to go?" Michael asked Gabriel, hoping that Cas didn't tell Sam about the feather.

Gabriel nodded, looking serious.

"Stay safe, Sam," Michael said, clapping a hand to his brother's shoulder. His gaze moved to Cas.

He clasped the back of Castiel's neck gently, and smiled faintly as the blue eyes widened.

"You stay safe too, Cas," Michael said, never looking away.

"The same goes for you as well, Michael," Cas responded, his unwavering gaze fixed on Michael's face.

Michael nodded, and he and Gabriel took flight.

* * *

It took some time to track down Raphael, but they eventually ran him to ground in Detroit, surrounded by a number of lesser angels.

Gabriel touched down first.

"Beat it, pipsqueaks," he told the lesser angels, spreading his wings in a clear threat. "I want to have a little chat with my brother without all of you listening in."

There were gasps and respectful looks as the other angels realised who Gabriel was.

Michael landed a moment later, his own wings folding into a less aggressive pose than Gabriel's.

"You heard him," Michael said authoritatively, ignoring the gaping stares and hopeful murmurs of '_Michael!_' "We're here to talk to Raphael. _Alone_."

The other angels dispersed at Michael's order, leaving them alone with Raphael, who simply stared at them.

"Michael. Gabriel," he said finally. "It has been some time."

Raphael's ponderous tones held slight accusation.

"That's it?" Gabriel asked. "No 'hey guys, how was your vacation?' or even a 'fuck you assholes, you left me?'"

"Gabe," Michael said warningly.

Gabriel made a face, but shut up.

"So. Raphael." Michael began to talk. "You guys have been forcing the Apocalypse to happen way too early, messing with humanity, and ganking any angels who disagreed with the party line. Got anything to say for yourself?"

"You left."

"Of course I left." Michael gave a mirthless chuckle. "No one listened to a fucking word I said anymore. You know, except for 'apocalypse.' Why the hell would I stay?"

"The others looked up to you," Raphael told him, anger leaking into his voice. "They needed your guidance. You were the Commander of the Host, and you turned your back on them."

"Oh, sure. Except it's hard to be a commander when no one's taking your commands anymore," Gabriel pointed out.

"The Host were ignoring our Father's will," Michael told Raphael. "They still are."

"What does that matter, in these times?" Raphael asked sardonically.

"It matters to me, and it should matter to everyone," Michael said sternly. "Raphael. You told Castiel that Father's dead. Do you believe that?"

"He is gone," Raphael said darkly. "Why else would he leave, if he is not dead?"

"Oh, I can think of a few reasons," Michael said wryly, his tone a little strained. "Brother, the Apocalypse will happen. But the time is not now. And I will do my utmost to ensure that this perversion of the Plan doesn't come to fruition, do you understand?"

Raphael just laughed, a deep, bitter chuckle.

Anger suddenly lanced through Michael, sharp and hot and desperate. He had to _fix_ this, but his plans would come to nothing if he couldn't get Raphael on his side.

If Raphael wouldn't help, insisted on being a stubborn obstructive bastard, then Michael would have to kill him.

The idea was utterly horrifying in its plausibility, and made Michael sick to his stomach.

The air around Michael began to crack with blue lightning, and the nearest buildings lost power as Michael's suddenly-expanding Grace fried the electronics, but Michael didn't notice as he knocked Raphael back off his feet.

"I don't care _who_ I have to go through to make things work, Raphael!" Michael roared out, standing over his brother with his wings spread in deadly intent. "I can't let it go on like this any more! If no one will listen to me then I'll _make_ them listen! The Earth _isn't_ being purged, the Host _isn't_ acting out the War In Heaven 2.0, and Lucifer is getting stuffed back in his box no matter what I have to do to make it happen!"

Great bronze-orange wings scythed through the air in emphasis.

There was a moment's silence.

Raphael just began to laugh again, but this time the laughter began deep in his chest, building up until he was booming with huge, body-shaking guffaws, carefree and full of joy.

Michael let his wings drop down in confusion, while Gabriel stared, dumbfounded.

"If you can command the Host with such resolution, Michael, then I have no doubt of your ability to achieve your goals," Raphael told him, still laughing. "The Host require strength and determination in their leader above all, and I am afraid that I have failed to meet the level demanded of me. Oh, it _is_ good to see you, my brothers."

Raphael's eyes were shining.

"_Raphael_," Gabriel choked out, and descended on him in a flurry of feathers and needy Grace.

Michael was right behind him, clapping a hand to the back of both their necks and spreading his wings over them, as the three archangels engaged in a messy three-way group-hug.

"I'm so sorry, Raphael," Michael said, hauling his little brother into a boisterous embrace. Raphael accepted the man-handling with the long-suffering tolerance of someone inured to it. "I shouldn't have left you to deal with it."

"I'm sorry too," Gabriel offered. "Well, not that I _left_, but that I ditched you two."

Michael found himself with Raphael settled contentedly under one wing, while Gabriel picked at the feathers on another, making it itch.

"Quit that, you annoying little bastard," he told Gabriel, who grinned a little guiltily. "Wil you help us, Raphael?"

"There is nothing I would rather do," Raphael said solemnly, snuggling into Michael's feathers.

"Awesome. Just one thing, okay? Both Castiel and Sam Winchester are off-limits. They're precious to me."

"Castiel I can understand," Raphael responded. "His loyalty to you and your cause has been admirable. But why the Winchester boy?"

Michael worked his fingers into the blue feathers of one of Raphael's wings.

"I raised him, Raph. I feel the same way about him as I do the two of you. So be careful of him, alright?"

"If you say to do so, then I shall do my best. Although I find your affection for him baffling. He is flawed."

Michael laughed a little.

"Raphael, since Dad left, is there any one of _us _that isn't flawed?"

There was a moment's silence.

"I take your point."

"He's developed this really annoying habit of being logical all the time," Gabriel told Raphael. "No one should be right that often. I don't remember him being right all the time, do you?"

Raphael chuckled.

"Yes."

Michael smirked. Gabriel pulled a face.

"So," Gabriel asked Raphael. "I've been a pagan god for the last thousand years. What have you been up to?"


	3. Part Three

**Author:** TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel

**Title: **Triumphant Grace

**Summary:** Zachariah makes the mistake of going after the Winchesters again, Michael and Gabriel track down Uriel and have a chat, and Team Free Will settle into their changed dynamics. Sequel to _Hidden Grace._

**Spoilers/warnings:** Uh… season five? In general? You know who Gabriel is, you're good to go. If not, DON"T READ THIS. Instead, go watch the episode 'Changing Channels' like, _right now_.

Slash warning for mild but definite Dean/Castiel, and slight Sam/Gabriel.

**Author notes:**

_Please let me know if you spot any typos. Reviews are awesome. Thank you!_

_

* * *

_

**TRIUMPHANT GRACE**

**Part Three**

* * *

Michael watched Sam sleep with a frown.

He could feel Lucifer's touch clinging around Sam, unmistakeable.

"I believe that you informed me that watching people sleep is 'creepy,'" Castiel's even voice said behind him.

"It is," Michael said absently. "Lucifer's fucking with Sam's head again."

Cas tilted his head and regarded Michael.

"Right now I'd love to bust in and throw Lucifer out on his ass, but if I do that he'll know I'm back. The same goes for Gabriel. So much as I'd like to, I'm not sure I should do something."

Cas rested a hand on Michael's shoulder, and his wings arched in surprised pleasure.

"Lucifer is likely to know soon in any case. You need to consider whether it is more important to keep your return secret, or to protect Sam from Lucifer's influence."

Put like that, there was no contest.

"I'm going in," Michael said firmly.

Placing a hand over Sam's forehead, he dived into his brother's mind.

* * *

When Michael appeared, Sam was looking out with dull, pained eyes onto a scene of destruction, while Lucifer spoke to him in a calm, smooth voice.

Michael's Grace surged angrily.

Lucifer's head snapped around so sharply that the movement was almost audible, while Sam spun around almost as quickly, a smile of glad relief spreading across his features at the sight of Michael walking across towards them.

"Michael," Lucifer acknowledged. "This is quite a surprise."

"Yeah, well, this seemed to be where all the cool people were hanging," Michael responded. "Hi there, Sam."

"…Michael," Sam said, catching himself before he said _Dean._

"Don't think much of the décor, though," Michael added casually, and suddenly the three of them were sitting a a booth in a diner.

Michael opened his menu.

"Fresh apple pie," he said. "Awesome."

Lucifer raised his eyebrows but followed suit, surveying the menu himself.

Sam, nestled into Michael's side like a baby duckling, looked between them in bewilderment.

"The thing is," Michael said conversationally, as pie appeared in front of him, "I get that you want to inhabit your Vessel. But harassing the poor kid the way you're doing? Not cool, Lucifer."

"Your interference here is unexpected," Lucifer said, a piece of lemon-meringue pie and a fork materialising. "It seems unlike you."

"Well, you know, it's been a while," Michael said through a mouthful of apple pie. "Maybe I've changed."

"It's possible," Lucifer agreed politely.

"Anyway, what I'm really here to say is that I'm sick of you messing around with Sam's head, and you can either stop or get the fuck out."

"No," Lucifer said, watching him.

Michael shrugged.

"Yeah. That's what I thought."

The next moment he was a pillar of towering Grace and wings and crackling power and rage, Sam shoved behind him and underneath one wing as their surroundings vanished.

Michael had a glimpse of sleek blue-black wings unfolding before he shoved Lucifer unceremoniously out of Sam's mind, and did the equivalent of bolting the doors behind him.

The lack of landscape was replaced by someplace comforting and familiar; the kitchen at Bobby's.

Sam peered out from under the wing that sheltered him. Michael felt no desire to remove it.

He'd practically raised Sam, he thought ruefully, so it was probably no wonder he felt like gathering Sam under his wings like he was a fledgling.

"He's gone," Sam said, sounding faintly surprised about it.

"As long as I'm here, he can't get in," Michael told him. "We're pretty evenly matched, but I'm welcome her and he isn't."

"Yeah," Sam said, "you can say that again."

Michael gave into impulse and cocooned Sam in all six of his wings, holding him close and safe. Part of him had wanted to rip Lucifer apart for what he was doing.

"Dude." His brother's voice came out muffled and vaguely irritated. "What are you doing?"

"I basically raised you, Sam," Michael said softly. "Every one of my instincts says that you're my fledgling to care for and protect. I wanted to _kill _Lucifer."

There was an embarrassed, pleased silence within Michael's wings, as Sam marvelled at Michael's words. Here in Sam's head, Michael knew every thought Sam had the moment he thought it.

"If we're done with the chick-flick moment, you should go to sleep," Michael said lightly, not commenting on Sam's unvoiced gratitude or insecurity.

There was a huffed laugh, but Sam's mind slipped back into normal sleep.

* * *

In the morning Michael waited until Sam began to stir before he left his side, and strolled out to where Castiel sat on the motel steps.

Michael dropped down beside him, and they sat there companionably.

"I don't know what you want from me," Cas said into the silence.

"There's an awkward conversation starter," Michael commented. "I dunno, Cas. What are you willing to give?"

Castiel met his gaze with eyes that burned with almost angry sincerity.

"I Fell for you," Castiel said with fierce intensity, his words taut with emotion. "I raised you from Perdition and gave up everything for you when you were Dean Winchester. As Michael, there is still nothing I would not do for you if asked."

Michael rested a hand loosely on Cas's neck, not quite the affectionate gesture he'd used the day before, and added pressure until their foreheads were almost touching.

"Believe me, I am sensible of that, Castiel," Michael said, staring deeply into Castiel's eyes, all archangel. "Your loyalty, your trust, your love – I cannot express how much they mean to me."

Castiel flushed slightly.

"But all the same, I want more," Michael continued. "I want _you_, Cas. And in return, you would get me."

He tilted his head in question, while his wings arranged themselves into an impressive display, part invitation, part offer, their meaning unmistakeable.

"That sounds fair," Castiel breathed solemnly, his wings spreading to mirror the position of Michael's own.

Michael grinned at him, and leaned in the extra inch.

* * *

"_Oh God!_" Sam exclaimed, sounding mortified, his footsteps retreating hastily.

"So this is where you two lovebirds got to!" Gabriel's jovial voice said loudly. "It's about time."

"Gabriel. Fuck off," Cas said calmly, sending Michael into paroxysms of laughter at the surprised look on Gabriel's face.

"That reminds me," Michael said once he could control his mirth, "you hurt Sam and I'll end you."

Gabriel raised a mobile eyebrow.

"Noted."

"And if he hurts you, I'll kick his ass," Michael added.

Gabriel gaped at him.

"Have they stopped kissing?" Sam called from inside. "Because seriously, I did _not_ need to see that."

"Bitch!" Michael called.

"Jerk!" Sam hollered back.

"How do you feel about going to Bobby's?" Michael asked, walking back into the motel room.

"Dude, _seriously?_ You're asking me how I feel about seeing Bobby's face when you tell him you're actually the archangel Michael, and that you and Cas are an item now?"

"We'll need to introduce Gabriel properly," Michael mused, with a grin. "You know, as an archangel in disguise. I hope Bobby tries to shoot him."

"Gee, thanks," Gabriel griped.

"Hey, it'll be hilarious."

"So _you_ say."

Michael just smirked.


End file.
